


Deathship Drabble

by fuelledbycoffee



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Deathshipping, sorry this is really lame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 08:33:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5085571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuelledbycoffee/pseuds/fuelledbycoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mariku and Ryou killing time and Mariku is all about licking things that don't belong to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deathship Drabble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wiw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiw/gifts).



There was always something so satisfyingly corruptive about kissing Ryou, aside from the electrifying jolt that shot from his lips to his groin. It was like peeling back the petals of a flower and forcing it to bloom before its time. Ryou had always just a little less reluctant each kiss, always a little more willing as he got accustomed to it. Mariku remembered it well. It was like each kiss they shared spread a venom of curiosity from Mariku’s lips that drenched Ryou’s soul with a wanting he never had before that allowed him to give in just a bit more and a bit more… 

Ryou was usually the one to break away first, flushed and nervous with his hands pushing at Mariku’s chest. His fingers were icy, the cold seeping through the thin shirt and against Mariku’s skin. He let Ryou move away but kept his proximity near, the trace of a smirk playing still on his lips. His eyes followed Ryou’s expression, turning away from the darker male with a pink gracing the pale cheeks. 

He loved how Ryou blushed. This light embarrassment seemed like a gift each time. Something about Ryou letting down his guard just enough to treat Mariku to this affection— ah, and affection was all Mariku ever asked for. Attention and affection from the most irresistible boy he’d ever laid eyes on… 

With a crooked grin playing on his lips, Mariku pressed another kiss to Ryou’s cheek and flopped onto this back across the other’s lap, gaze still stuck on Ryou contently. Ryou almost instinctively by now raised his hand to run his fingers through the thick, blonde hair, smiling softly down at the other man. 

Mariku’s stare lingered still, and he raised a hand to trace a finger along the contour of Ryou’s cheekbone. “Why are you blushing?” he murmured.

“You’re staring at me,” came Ryou’s quiet reply. He didn’t feel so shy often, or ever. He was often outspoken and brave, curious and prying, but when Mariku stared at him, he felt so vulnerable it gave him chills. He wondered how deep those lavender eyes could see and he wondered just what thoughts spilled in that mind with such a focused gaze. His nails gently scratched at Mariku’s scalp absentmindedly, keeping his own, deep, brown eyes locked onto the Egyptian’s. “What are you thinking about?” he asked him.

The answer was easy. It was almost always the same. “You,” muttered Mariku. His fingertips slipped down Ryou’s cheek, long nails trailing in light depressions in the skin as they dragged, and losing contact with his face just under his chin. His simple response earned him another smile from his pale-skinned inamorato. 

“That’s so cheesy,” Ryou mumbled, poking Mariku’s cheek. Despite the lame line, he still felt a warmth bloom in his heart, and he believed him. Who couldn’t, with how longing that infinite gaze was.

Mariku’s head turned on instinct towards the finger, mouth opening to engulf the digit and lick it. Ryou scoffed, tugging back his hand but not before Mariku clasped a grip around Ryou’s wrist, holding him there. 

“Gross,” Ryou mumbled, but wasn’t all that disturbed. 

Mariku’s eyes flickered from Ryou’s to his hand, raising it before his face. The index finger gleamed with his saliva while the other thin fingers remained dry and relaxed in comparison. “I told you, you put something near my mouth, it’s gonna get sucked on,” he murmured with a smirk, bringing down Ryou’s hand to lick the rest of the fingers too.

Ryou snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re such a pervert,” he scolded but grinned all the same. He allowed his paramour to have his strange way with his hand, as cold as it did leave his dampened fingers afterwards. His pinky twitched reflexively as Mariku moved on from it. “How do I taste?” 

Mariku slowed, meeting Ryou’s eye again and pulling the middle finger slowly from his lips, swallowing. “That’s not really fair to ask,” he said.

“Why’s that?” Ryou arched a brow, wiggling his fingers. Mariku granted them one more lick before speaking.

“It’s like giving me a box of chocolates and letting me only lick the box, before asking me how I like the cream filling. I haven’t really had it yet…” 

Ryou snorted and tugged his hand free from Mariku’s hold. “Oh, hell,” he scoffed, though failed to deter the amused sneer. He had practically walked into that one, anyway.

Mariku wasn’t discouraged and he chuckled quietly up at Ryou, pushing himself up on his arms and leaving a long, wet streak up Ryou’s cheek with a satisfyingly heavy lap of his tongue. 

Ryou laughed and cringed, and shrugged a shoulder to hide behind, leaning away. “Gross, you’re like a dog!” he exclaimed in protest, pushing Mariku off before wiping his cheek with the heel of his hand. 

“Dogs need love too,” Mariku feigned hurt, pouting at Ryou.

“What you need is a muzzle,” Ryou shook his head with a playful smile, tapping Mariku’s nose with a finger.

Mariku quickly caught the pad of the digit by his lips. “If I had on a muzzle, how could I kiss you?” he asked, nosing into Ryou’s hair and breathing into his ear. 

The smaller male shuddered softly and craned his neck reflexively at the chill. “Hm…” he hummed. “I'm sure we’ll find a way… But right now,” he pushed at Mariku’s chest to part from him, “I need to go to school.” 

The response earned a whine of protest from Mariku. “No,” he mumbled adamantly and pushed Ryou down onto the couch to keep him there. “Stay home.”

“Mariku—” Ryou scoffed and wriggled free quickly, knowing how easily Mariku could take it too far if he didn’t distance himself in time. “No, I can’t miss class. I’ll be back by four,” he promised, grabbing his bookbag from the floor and his jacket from the back of the armchair. 

Mariku flopped onto his side on the sofa, pouting bitterly as Ryou assembled his things. “I’ll be here,” he muttered dejectedly. 

Ryou paused at the door, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys. He threw a smile to Mariku and winked. “Good boy,” he said, before leaving out the door.


End file.
